


Grimmslayer

by Zaremon



Category: RWBY, Warhammer Fantasy
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:21:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26913562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zaremon/pseuds/Zaremon
Summary: Across the Old World, the duo of Gotrek Gurnnison and Felix Jaeger are known as either wanted criminals, heroes who have saved the Empire countless times, or some mix of the two.  And while their exploits have seen them journey to the farthest reaches of their world, this journey will take them even beyond the realms of their world and seemingly beyond Chaos.  Now stuck in a strange world of better developed technology, daemonic creatures and animal people living among humans, new dangers await. Will they find a way back to their bleak home, or will Felix end up recording Gotrek's doom....along with his own?
Comments: 5
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a bit nervous posting this, as this is a fanfic idea I had brewing in my noggin for sometime now, but I hope to please fans of Warhammer and RWBY! Don't be afraid to critique me, as I want to learn. As for where this takes place, I imagine it takes place somewhere in the 17 year timeskip after Giantslayer, but before Orcslayer. I also want to thank the friends I have on Discord for both sending me an invite code, and encouraging me to write!

"I had second thoughts of putting these chapters in this volume, due to how unbelievable this entire journey was. But I swear on my oath to Gotrek that we had found something beyond our borders, beyond anything in our quest in Araby. After foiling a skaven plot involving some strange blasphemous device, me and Gotrek had found ourselves in a new world, with nothing familiar to link us back. And as if by self-fulfilling prophecy, me and Gotrek had found ourselves pitted against these strange daemonic beasts. So consider these the 'lost chapters' of my journey with the slayer."  
  
- _From My Travels with Gotrek_ , Vol. VI, Addendum I

By Herr Felix Jaeger (Altdorf Press, 2525)

Felix Jaeger quickly slashed across the side of one of the large wolf-like creatures, giving him faint reminders of the malevolent canines he and Gotrek fought in the damned province of Sylvania. But these wolves stood nearly on two legs, and had been pushing Felix back, with him barely killing one of them with his sword. Already his bones ached from the impacts of the daemonic creature, slicing away, to scar the creature's skull-like visage, the beast howling in rage. Gotrek on the other hand, was barely breaking a sweat as he carved through the pack, roaring with zealous fury as he split the skull of one wolf with his large axe. Compared to the threats the duo had faced in their years traveling together, these creatures were a threat, but not nearly as much as beings like the dragon Skjalandir. Weirdly enough though, in the brief seconds that he could check on the slayer, Felix noticed that his axe wasn't glowing as it did around the entities of Chaos, something that had been a relief, but also concerning. Finally, Felix had gotten his second kill, managing to messily almost decapitate one of the canines, and like usual, they seemingly faded to dust, leaving not even blood behind. But even from this, Felix had boasted some scratches and bites around his body from the ongoing fight, feeling his leg go numb, but Gotrek never paid any heed to the wounds that covered his bare, tattooed body. Quickly, Felix turned around to face his next threats, but found that Gotrek had easily dispatched the remnants of the beasts, grumbling under his breath as he looked at the lack of blood or bodies.  
  
"Bah, these creatures were barely worth the swings of my axe, manling."  
  
"I'll admit....they're a little underwhelming if you compare them to beastmen, but you've killed essentially most monsters under the sun, at least the sun of our world."  
  
The Old World was seemingly gone despite how much the forests reminded him of the ones scattered across the Empire, but there was something odd about the world they were in. Besides the daemonic wildlife, everything had seemed off ever since they failed the schemes of a half-mechanical skaven and its' strange device. Either way, they were more than lost, at least if they were lost in their world, there would be a settlement or seen some familiar elements, even the more insidious entities that lived there. They hadn't even come across a single goblin in the hours they had been wandering, instead these strange, malevolent beasts, like something out of a nightmare. Sure, he had come face-to-face with an actual Greater Daemon before, but they still sent shivers down his spine. When he had bandaged up his wounds with some rudimentary bandages and a small bottle of healing salve from Araby, he kept himself up and moved with Gotrek, who didn't acknowledge the cuts and bites on his body. The duo continued for what they assumed was north, thankfully not seeing any other creatures along their path, but before long, they had started to climb a hell, and Felix had realized how long it had been since he had eaten anything. Not even any of those dried reptilian jerky remained on him, as putrid as it tasted, it would have at least kept him full. But thoughts of hunger pains vanished as he and Gotrek clambered over a emerald hill, and found what even seemed to stop Gotrek in his path for killing.  
  
What stood ahead of them was a gleaming city, one that, dare he say, was far more advanced than Altdorf or Nuln. The city spanned far, with walls towering over the landscape, and he found himself thinking of the Empire capital based on the architecture. The roofs, the huge walls, it all reminded him of home, but this town could hold the key to getting back.

"It's a lot like Altdorf, isn't it Gotrek? Fair bit more advanced too."  
  
"Hmph, it was made by _umgi_ , how good could it b-"  
  
Their conversation was interrupted by the roar of engines and the large, whale-like shape of an airship flying over them, joining countless others that were coming and going at various points around this mysterious city. Felix had only ever ridden an airship a couple of times, that being the dwarf airship _Spirit of Grungni_ , made by a friend of the duo known as Malakai Malakaisson, a somewhat mad dwarf engineer and slayer. But he felt a little ashamed to say that these airships looked so much more advanced, sleek like elven craft and not even needing large balloons to float. This furthered his curiosity as he hurried along closer to this city, with Gotrek moving behind him, grumbling under his breath about craftsmanship. Unknown to the duo though, was a pair of eyes scrying at their location, a feeling that twinged in Felix's mind, but ultimately faded away as they tried to find a proper entrance in. Hopefully, this metropolis had some form of alcohol to keep the slayer's grumbling to a minimum.


	2. Schemes Under the Sands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 ended up being a lot longer than I had originally planned, but I hope it is enjoyable regardless!

_Under-Araby, Unknown Date_

Grey Seer Thanquol followed the arid passage ways that made up the burrows of Under-Araby. Although he detested the skaven from the Under-Altdorf, at least their dirt was a degree of moist and not miles under loose sand. This was besides the fact that the skaven who lived under this manthing empre in the sands were especially backstabbing, even by skaven standards. The only reason he graced this garbage heap of a nest system with his presence, was the fact that he was under orders from a member of the Council of Thirteen, more specifically Lord Morskittar, Emperor of Warlocks and the true leader of Clan Skryre. Morskittar had addressed him directly, whispering to Thanquol about how an upstart warlock-engineer in Araby named Whiskarr Zapfang was in the works of a superweapon, the true effects unknown even to him. So here he was, most illustrious and mighty of Grey Seers, spying on some dirty tinker-rats like some Eshin spy. Thanquol and his ever faithful (if dull-witted) Boneripper. Due to the presence of the three-armed rat ogre, many of the filthy, bandage-wrapped rats here were keeping their distance, even they weren't brave enough to provoke a brute like Boneripper, thought Thanquol. If this wretch was going to want to have a follower, he would have to play the part until he could obliterate the engineer.  
  
Slowly, Thanquol as entering a more mechanical area, with the wooden beams becoming scrap metal supports, decaying copper wires slithering through the walls and floor like maggots in a corpse pile, occasionally shooting off green sparks that startled Thanquol. He felt his glands quench as he kept up his face, baring his chattering teeth at a nearby skavenslave, following his escort through the ever more developed cave. Surely, these guards would realize that it was not them keeping an eye on the Mighty and Powerful Thanquol, but he, Greatest Agent of the Council of Thirteen! As much as he despised the blasphemous machine-loving rats of Clan Skryre, their tech has proven useful, and if he could work this supposed "superweapon", then none in the Under-Empire could challenge his genius! Thanquol's pleasing thoughts of victory were interrupted by the half-mechanical squeaking of who he saw was a tall, bulky shape, which clutched a tall spear, and appeared to made of more metal than there was flesh. As was common in skaven society, he witnessed the half-metal leader beat a whimpering slave down with the rod of his staff, the skavenslave squirting out his musk of fear excessively, to the point where even Thanquol was feeling his own glands twitch.  
  
  
"Idiot! Slave tinker-fixed component with wrong metal! You take Warlock-Engineer Whiskarr Zapfang for fool-fool? Get back to work-task, or I feed you your own liver!"  
  
"I-I apologize, oh Greatest Forger of Death Machines, Most Vicious of Torturers!"  
  
Expectedly, the slave scurried away squeaking for his life, as the life of a slave was often short and painful if one angered their master enough. Like many of the higher ranking rats within Clan Skryre, Whiskar had had much of his flesh replaced with custom prosthetics and power sources, his head having visible plating, while his hunched back carried a brass power source, which hummed with a mixture of Skryre science, sorcery, and like most skaven technology, the all too familiar smell of warpstone. Wires wormed under his flesh as well, powering his body with energy, along with the mechanical wonder that replaced his left arm, a seemingly multi-barreled weapon, while his other hand was hooked to the spear. Around the metal work chamber, many of the skaven were busy at work, with taskmasters whipping skavenslaves to their tasks, warlock acolytes were busy whispering about projects and plans, and rat ogres were carrying huge hunks of metal and towing carts of spare parts around. In the center of the chamber was a strange device, one that stood taller than even the lumbering rat ogres. Arcs of emerald electricity glowed around it, the inner device having countless wires extending from the platform it was attached to in the center of the chamber. Occasionally, the strange engine would whir, with the various acolytes taking notes, with some even looking over some scribbled plans for it. Thanquol moved past the escort with Boneripper, gulping as he approached the Whiskar with the sort of groveling that made any leader feel inflated.  
  
"Oh Master of Sciences, Creator of Great Destruction, I come as a mere servant to the Council of Thirteen, to look-appraise your device!"  
  
"Yes-yes, enough grovel-whine from you, but Council will see me as better than Morskittar! Morskittar make failure-mistake of disregarding me, I make brand new device, capable of send-delivering skaven to any location I want!"  
  
Thanquol's ears perked up at such a feat, if Whiskar was telling the truth. Already, the skaven could launch surprise attacks from here, to virtually anywhere! Why, if Thanquol wasn't mistaken, one could easily misuse this device, "accidentally" teleport several berserk rat ogres into the Shattered Tower sent a delightful shiver down his tail. Visions of his enemies dying in such quick, brutally violent ways delighted him, but had to make sure he didn't get lost in his train of thought. Originally the Morskittar had ordered him to sabotage the device, but now that he knew about it, he could easily present it to the rest of the council and win favor as their greatest servant, or maybe his previous plan, as long as somebody was dying painfully. The grey seer made sure to keep close to Boneripper, the stupid but loyal brute keeping even an enhanced rat like Whiskarr at a distance. The warlock engineer screeched orders at some of his acolytes, pointing at valves, which were quickly turned to his expectations, while he had the last one open up a black, seemingly stone box, revealing a chunk of warpstone cut in such a way to be smooth and perfectly round, and was bigger than Thanquol's paw! Just the sight of such a chunk made him salivate, imagining what such a thing would do his powers compared to just slipping a sliver into his mouth.  
  
"Whiskar make-craft perfect refined warpstone! Such power will fuel generators for long-long time, can bring skaven forces to focused location with small-minimal deaths. Soon, scheme-plan will be finished after final te-"  
  
The engineer's monologue was interrupted by a clanrat, clutching a rusted blade and wooden shield, slightly more armored than some of the wretches, but barely something to look at. After catching their breath, the clanrat squeaked in alarm, the scent of vacated musk glands pungent to Thanquol.  
  
"Lord Whiskarr! This unworthy servant beg-grovel for forgiveness, but intruders seek-find nest!" Squeaked the clanrat, who clearly was scared out of his fur by Whiskarr, and was keeping his shield up as a means of hopefully saving him and giving him time to flee the scene.  
  
"Fool-fool, we built traps for reason! Man-things die-die to them quick!"  
  
"B-But it whole group of desert man-things and they're being led by blond-furred man-thing and beard-thing with orange fur!"  
  
Upon hearing the description, Thanquol approached the clanrat and gripped his rags aggressively, fear and anger in his eyes as his mind flooded with possibilities. Did the dwarf and his pet man-thing follow him all the way from the Clan-Empire to foil his plans? He gnashed his teeth stressfully, knowing what carnage the duo could wreak, remembering them in the human city of Nuln, and the countless other foiled schemes of his. In his mind, Thanquol was especially worried about the dwarf, an insidious warrior whose heavy axe cleaved his first Boneripper's skull in twain, and could cleave through the armor of Stormvermin like they were made of rags! The very image made his glands squirt the musk of fear, knowing the power of the slayer.  
  
"What did dwarf-thing look like!? Did they have one eye, and big-large axe?!"  
  
"Y-Yes-yes, mighty Grey Seer! Broke our defenses, on his way with group of man-things!"  
  
Suddenly, the sound of yelling could be heard echoing down one of the cavernous holes, with the clashing of blades, and the death squeaks of many dying skaven echoing farther. Whiskarr took notice and alerted any skaven nearby, the horde rushing forth hesitantly to face the intruders. Thanquol had attempted to scurry the other way, when the sound of rotating metal started whirring. Thanquol would find that his target was aiming his machine arm at him, as it turns out his arm ended in no claw, but instead a smaller version of a Skryre ratling gun, which while more diminutive, would still have mulched through the grey seer like a skaven under a rat ogre.  
  
"Grey seer no run-scurry away from me! You assist, or Whiskarr make you maggot-corpse! Take to eastern tunnels, lead clanrats against man-things!"  
  
He prayed to the Horned Rat that the dwarf and his pet man-thing were in the opposite tunnels, plus, it could potentially mean that the duo would kill the tinker-rat, and end his blasphemous betrayal against the Council! Or they perish against his techno-sorcery, whatever proved more valuable at the time. Thanquol struck the leg of Boneripper with his staff, alerting him to be prepared for combat. If he was going to survive. After alerting his bodyguard, Thanquol turned to the mass of clanrats and acolyte engineers who made up the pack, and made sure to make himself know, with Boneripper to add intimidation with his unnatural bulk?  
  
"Well? Follow-hurry behind me, mouse-lickers! Horned Rat watches over his faithful, so hurry-scurry or I zap-zap you!"  
  
Protection would definitely come, for him at least, these weaklings would serve as fine meatshields while he claimed victory. They should feel lucky to be even that, for to protect a most blessed grey seer, voice of the Horned Rat with ones' life was truly the best act any servant could do! With his followers sufficiently frightened, Thanquol led them to the tunnels, where he followed them from behind with Boneripper at his side. After all, the true position for any pack leader was the back, where he could direct the clueless fools to victory!

\----

_Outskirts of Martek, Araby_

Felix had hoped that while he and Gotrek had been away from the Empire, due to them landing so far away from the coasts of Albion, that they would be free from the threats of Skaven. But even in the blasted sands of Araby, where the sand stripped his cheeks and got in his clothes, skaven were active. For some time, he and Gotrek had followed the group of city guard, led by a man known as Abd al-Salam, who was dressed in the attire fitting a man from the deserts of Araby, loose robes, and a 'kufiya' as it was called. They had been traveling for about an hour, splitting into two groups to cover the tunnel system, before their first combat had begun. Soon, the caverns had descended quickly into bloody battle, with many of the men killed due to not having experience with subterranean combat. Gotrek however, was right in his element, hefting his signature axe, and cleaving bloody chunks from the ratmen, leaving many of them bisected, decaptitated, or rendered into unrecognizable stains. When fighting had settled, the dwarf would lead them down further, with his kind's uncanny ability to navigate the underground, soon finding the cavern around them changing from natural formations, to the patterns of burrows, even seeing machinery digging into the walls. Abd al-Salam clearly had no experience dealing with skaven, Felix thought, though it was impressive that he rallied the men back during the fight, while Felix and Gotrek helped cut through the small horde. Though based on his experiences, that was only some sacrificial bait.

"Your dwarf friend, he has experience with killing ratmen, no? We figured they were just myths that you Empire men told as tall tales."  
  
"Far from it, they infest about every corner of the globe like actual rats. Just be careful, there isn't a tactic too low for them."  
  
Deeper they went, to where they could smell the crackle of ozone, the stink of malicious industry, far different than the smells of Nuln's factories. The forces they encountered were getting more desperate, to the point where they had been pinned down near a strange chamber, due to a two-man skaven team manning some rapid firing weapon, which not only claimed more lives from their group, but mowed down many skaven callously, not caring who was hit, so long as the humans were. While Felix had been ducking between what cover he could find, which was many of the strange devices in the chamber, more skaven were funneling through, including other weapon teams setting up. Felix attempted to ask Gotrek on tactics, but saw that the slayer had lept off one of the generators, throwing himself into a swarm of ratmen that squeaked out fo fear as the dwarf cut them to bloody chunks.

\--

Thanquol couldn't believe what mouse-brains Whiskarr had put him in charge, fighting off a group with ease, but saw that this was clearly an insidious ruse to lure him away from the battle. Which made sense of course, the slayer clearly didn't want to fight the most powerful grey seer under the Horned Rat. So with what skaven he could find, he hurried back with Boneripper, who he had to strike with his staff until he had stopped chewing on the corpse of a human, the beast almost lamenting its' interrupted meal, before stomping after the other skaven for more prey. To keep his nerves from utterly loosing it, Thanquol pulled out a bag of warpstone stuff, quickly putting it to his snout and taking a deep inhale, surges of energy flooding him, nearly making him lose it before he felt his body sink from the quick high. Now he was utterly prepared for what the slayer and his man-thing would prepare.

He was not prepared, in fact. The fight in the chamber room of the skaven teleporter was an utter blood bath, with desert humans fighting desperately, while Thanquol was observing from the rim of a cave entrance. To observe the battlefield like a true general of course! He wasn't hiding from those weaklings, he thought. With a point of his staff, he would give orders to his loyal companion, bringing his strength to play instead of guarding him.  
  


"Go Boneripper, smash-crush man-things! Break-rip beard-thing too!"  
  
Boneripper roared as he barreled through the crowd, not caring who was infront of him as he reduced human warriors and skaven to paste. With three arms that nearly spanned as thick as a human was horizontal, he tore one human in half, coating the mutated beast in viscera and chunks from snout to lower paws. Due to his simple mind, Boneripper was following orders as bluntly as he could, which was to kill all the humans, though not caring what had to happen. A pair of humans fired off arrows at him, one deflecting off his shoulder guard, while another planted firmly in his shoulder. In retaliation, Boneripper let out a bloodcurdling roar, reacting the only way it knew how from a range. Using its' immense unnatural strength, Boneripper would grab one of the glowing generators, muscles contracting as it took some force to rip from the ground in a mess of dirt, cables and sparking electricity, then throwing the generator at the ranged humans. But what Boneripper failed to comprehend, was Thanquol's screaming in the background, while green lights had begun lighting up around the various consoles in the room.  
  


\--

"No you mouse-minded fool-fool, don't rip those out!"  
  
Thanquol only now noticed Whiskarr approach him after hearing the sound of his ratling gun arm fire off, with Whiskarr pointing his enhanced spear at him. The grey seer bared his neck at the engineer, his musk of fear squirting out as he tried to grovel his way out of this one.  
  
"Idiot! Your rat ogre ripped-tore warpstone stabilizer generator out! Machine unable to process energies acc-"  
  
Suddenly, the sound of warlock engineer acolytes screaming caught their attention, Whiskarr and Thanquol looking towards the central machine and the malfunctioning machinery around it. The teleporter began to spin as the warpstone focusing devices sparked and whirred out of control, green lightning sparking out of control, striking human and skaven alike in its' emerald death. One skaven erupted into green flame, squealing in pain as it ran around, knocking over wires and burning other skaven with the warpfire. The room was soon awash with the color of warpstone, wires ripping themselves from the walls and ceiling alike as the generators ripped apart under the stress, glowing brighter and brighter as he emptied his glands of any fear musk they had left. Thanquol shoved the cybernetic rat away and began running, as many of the others were doing as well, he could buy another Boneripper at Skavenblight anyways! But before his fleeing could properly begin, a ear-shattering boom began, the machine unable to handle the warpstone generators that fueled the blasphemous science powering it. As if erased, the explosion didn't so much rip apart the cave system, so much as erase it like it never existed, leaving behind a nearly perfect sphere of erased destruction. All Thanquol saw, was darkness, and felt only pain as his body seemingly vaporized.  
  


\--

Having his entire life flash before his eyes was not a new sensation, as Felix had done this a number of times during his journeys with Gotrek Gurnisson. From the accidental killing of a fellow student that had him expelled from Altdorf University, the meeting between him and Gotrek, and various other quests that nearly killed him. But now, he was almost definitively sure this was the end, and he wouldn't even get to speak of Gotrek's death to the world. He had been fighting the skaven away from Gotrek and the group, dodging rusty sword slashes, claws, teeth, and hails of strange ammunition while he slashed around with his magic blade Karaghul. Cuts covered his body, his clothes torn, but before he could get another slice in, his world erupted in a green bloom of an explosion, followed by an even more intense stink of ozone. As he looked at Gotrek from what little he could perceive, Gotrek wasn't hesitating, cleaving a skaven weapons team in twain, before another loud noise made the air vibrate. The machine sparked until a field of energy exploded from it, overwhelming Felix as his body was overwhelmed with numb pain, and the sudden darkness that overtook him. It was all he could feel, before hitting something and losing consciousness.

\--

"....ake...p....ling..."  
  
"Wake up.....manling, wake up!"  
  
Felix's eyes shot open as he jumped up, Gotrek taking a step back as to allow his companion to breathe. Was he dead? Was this the afterlife? Despite seemingly being disintegrated by the blast, Felix found his body was intact besides the wounds from the battle, no missing limbs or anything, even Karaghul was in the sheath like usual. Though last time he checked, there weren't any pine trees in Araby, nor this much green. He picked himself up and felt his head spin, leaning against a nearby tree as he looked at Gotrek, who looked little affected by all this, in fact, he looked rather frustrated about yet another doom cheated from him.  
  
"Damned _thaggoraki,_ I was cheated out of death yet again while fighting them."  
  
"I think we have much ore significant problems, my friend.....for starters, we aren't in Araby anymore, I don't even know _where_ we are anymore."


	3. Strange Land, Stranger Youth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the big gap in-between chapters, a mixture of figuring out the plot lines and writer's block had me confused, plus various other shenanigans in life. Hopefully this chapter makes up for my accidental hiatus! I promise that chapter 4 won't take as long to get posted.

_Crow Bar, Vale_

"What do you mean that my currency isn't viable, _umgi?_ They're Imperial Marks, should be good as any in this tavern, you _wazzock!_ "

"Sir, I will keep insisting, we only take Lien in this establishment, I'm afraid we don't barter. If you can't buy anything, I would insist you take your business elsewhere."

Felix had been hoping that with a new, strange land, that at the very least he and his slayer companion would have a place to rest and get a pint, the bare minimum for adventurers like them. But as it turn out, Imperial Marks didn't carry any weight, which surprised him, as even the most backwater establishment took gold for currency, and even this was making him a bit frustrated, but not to the level that Gotrek was reaching. It was a miracle that they had found this tavern, having gotten lost within the city's vast areas, unable to even figure out where to find information. He had also noticed that weird stares had been made at him and Gotrek since they arrived, more so at his companion, but he couldn't figure out why exactly. Had they never seen a dwarf before? But it was a miracle that he had noticed the stares, as he was utterly dumbstruck at this city, almost ashamed to say that the construction of this city put Altdorf to shame. These buildings looked as though they belonged to the inner rich areas of cities like in the Old World, but almost every building a beautiful brick building, there wasn't even signs of a shantytown aside from the occasional beggar they passed! Gotrek even had to grab Felix by his trousers, due to nearly walking in front of a metal vehicle of sorts, reminding him of the steam tanks in Nuln, but sleeker, faster, and not having a massive steam boiler built in. If only the engineers at Nuln could see this, the idea of them spasming from jot having made him laugh before they went on their way. Unfortunately, due to Gotrek intimidating most people they approached, it was considerably harder to find directions. But hopefully, there would be info at the one place anyone could get info from, illegal or otherwise in a settlement; the tavern.  
  
This tavern was different though, as instead of a rickety old establishment filled with cutthroats and shady figures, it was actually fairly silent, save for the bartender. And this is where the duo were, eventually walking out once evening had reached the city. However, his thoughts of hunger and drink vanished as he looked up at the moon, even Gotrek stared up at the sky with his one eye and noticed that the moon was shattered partially. Chunks of rock seemingly hovered around it, reminding him slightly of Morrslieb and Mannslieb, but there being only one moon in the night sky unsettled him. Back to figuring out their situation, they passed a myriad of storefronts, many closed, while others seemed to be quieting down, selling Sigmar knows what sort of products, not nearly as crowded as the marketplaces in Altdorf or any of the Imperial big cities. Night had fallen, and they didn't even have a rickety old Inn to sleep in, which most likely meant taking their chances in an alley way. But the idea of sleep quickly faded as the sound of commotion snapped Felix from his drowsiness. As a man who grew up in one of the big Imperial cities, a citizen would have to know the sounds of a storefront being broken into, as knowing the sounds would prevent someone from being found floating down the River Reik. Felix peeked around the corner, hand gripping the pommel of Karaghul, while Gotrek looked all too eager to fight again.  
  
At the storefront was a group of well-dressed men, or at least this world's version of them, each wearing some sort of suit that would usually belong at some gathering, instead of robbery. Each seemed identical in appearance, with some strange red eyewear, clutching strange weapons, varying from more advanced handguns, to scarlet swords. But what caught his eye more was a young girl who stood amidst the robbers. By her feet was a man who had been clearly thrown through the window, but her appearance was what struck Felix as strange. She looked like some demure maiden, a short dress, more akin to a well-dressed village girl, but clutched in her hands was easily one of the largest weapons he had seen in the hands of a person. A large, mechanical scythe, as long as he was tall, lacking the humble design of a scythe a farmer would use to reap crops, but he couldn't get a more clear look. The reason being, that she had already leapt into combat, a whirlwind with her weapon, dispatching several thugs, yet she didn't seem to cut them open despite their attempt. Felix unsheathed his sword and stepped from the cover, Gotrek already out and clutching his massive axe in both hands. And seeing as how they stood out quite a bit a bit due to their outlandish appearances, and Gotrek’s lack of a shirt.  
  


“Damnit, more Huntsmen, take care of them too along with the little bitch!”  
  
With their presence known, Felix had taken to a defensive pose, wanting to gauge these new fighters in this world, knowing they weren't just some racketeer's band in the Empire. When he looked to his left, Gotrek had already rushed into the thick of it, charging down one of the thugs with some dwarfish warcry. The one closest to the dwarf seemingly laughed at this and brought his blade up, failing to realize that his height was a disadvantage. With a swing, Gotrek swiped low, splitting the man's legs below the knee in a splatter of gore, dropping his red blade as his other leg was severed, toppling him like some tree. After a couple more chops to the fallen foe, Gotrek stood atop the body coated in blood, grinning for once as he pointed his axe at the rest of the group.  
  
"Will one of you bring me my doom?!"  
  
Having been distracted by this, Felix had nearly had his wrist severed as he brought Karaghul up to block a blow, trading a few swings with one mobsters who decided he was easier to target, after watching Gotrek leaving his area looking like a butcher shop's wares. Felix kept note of his foe's steps and his, remembering his training in fencing at the university. Step, step, forward slash, a jab, slash, step. A certain tempo was needed, a rhythm, and this man had none, or even the monstrous strength to make up for it like an orc. With a quick parry, Felix slashed across his fingers, cutting them like fresh sausages and almost literally disarming the gang member, before taking an aggressive stance and putting his blade a few inches in his throat. He only had a few moments to take a breath, before a gunshot rang past his ear, wincing as he felt the bullet cut across his upper arm and tear through his clothes. Here he was at the disadvantage, as while he thought himself competent in a fight, Felix was also gravely aware that he didn't have the speed to outmaneuver a bullet.  
  
Before he could try and devise an escape plan, Gotrek had take a running jump and brought his axe down on the gunman's weapon arm, cleaving it smoothly past the bone as the victim gripped at his stump and dropped to his knees in pain. With another roar, Gotrek would swing sideways, and send the head rolling across the way, covering his already bloody form and axe with more blood. The dwarf barely looked like he broke a sweat, in fact, he looked more disappointed than anything, grunting as he hefted his axe up to his shoulder and approached his remembrancer. Behind the slayer was four slain thugs, each brutalized and cut apart, while blood dripped from 

"Hmph, barely worth the effort to dispatch them."  
  
"I actually agree with you for once, though the girl seemed competent as wel-"  
  
The sound of some strange, wailing machine stopped him, wincing from how loud the sound became. Felix turned around to look for the girl, but only barely caught the sight of her cloak and scythe disappearing up a rooftop, unable to think of ho she scaled it so quickly. The sound quickly came closer and revealed the source, two of those same machines he saw people operating, but it seemed to be emitting a flashing light that made Felix shut his slightly. From them, a group of men emerged and aimed firearms at them, with Gotrek's grip tightening around his axe, and Felix lowering his blade.   
  
"Hands where I can see them, drop your weapons!"  
  
"Dispatch, possible robbery suspects have been sighted, multiple bodies confirmed."  
  
Law enforcement, of course. It wasn't his or Gotrek's first run in with the law, seeing as they had been wanted in the Empire, though they did enjoy a nice respite in Araby about not having to duck into taverns when the town guard patrolled through their area. Though these weren't a patrol of simple town guard with polearms and blades, as they all had some form of firearm, and each seemed to be aiming at them. Felix had to think quickly, as while Gotrek was ready to fight, Gotrek also wasn't bulletproof, since he had no other protection than his dwarfish stubbornness. So not having a choice, Felix sheathed his sword and leaned in towards Gotrek, praying to whichever God was able to watch in this world that they wouldn't end up looking like Estalian cheddar.

"Gotrek, I know you're going to hate this, but I think we need to surrender."  
  
"I can take them on, they're _umgi_ without any blades."  
  
"Yes...but there's also many of them. With ranged superiority. Do you want your doom at the hands of officers of the law, or a death worthy of a saga?"  
  
That seemed to shut Gotrek up, as he simply grunted, and lowered his axe, staring blades at the law enforcement as they approached. His heart thumped nervously as he stared at them, feeling his arm sting from the bullet graze, knowing he wouldn't be much of a fighter with the wound slowing him. The lawmen had kept their aims true, though he noticed they were more looking towards Gotrek, since he looked more like some crazed murderer. As he approached, suddenly he saw the local guard shoot looks at one another quickly, before their weapons fire off something odd at Gotrek. Strange objects flew from the front of their firearms, connected to cords that made contact with Gotrek first. Each seemed to administer some electric shock, with Gotrek becoming furious at the first couple, and charging with them attached. Several more were fired before Gotrek stopped in his tracks, connected via several cords and convulsing with the strange electric devices, before one last projectile connected to his head, making the dwarf collapse, all while his axe was still gripped firmly in his hand.  
  
"GOTREK!"  
  
No, he couldn't have found his doom, right? Such a minor end, it couldn't be. Felix had made a dash towards his companion, almost reaching him before his body coursed with violent pulsing pain, screaming as he dropped to his knees and couldn't even force his arm to move towards Karaghul. The last image he saw was him staring at Gotrek's still body, vision becoming fuzzy before fading to darkness.

\----

_Vale Police Department_

Detective Matthias looked over the case file handed to him, the newest in a string of robberies across Vale. Dust stores being robbed, an all too common crime in Vale nowadays due to Roman Torchwick's latest crime ring. A new development and sighting had seen them called in, but now the case had gotten stranger, which was saying something for the world he lived in. Two subjects were at the scene of the robbery, surrounded by the bodies of local gang members and the vandalized store _From Dust Till Dawn._ A young girl had also been sighted, but she had been brought in by Hunters. But this made no sense for him, as these strangers had thrown a wrench into the investigation. Not only were several of Torchwick's gang butchered and brought to the morgue, but the duo brought in made no sense. Although looking like Hunters, they lacked a license to do so, but they also lacked any form of identification. No wallets, Lien, or even a basic scroll to look through. The subjects were two unnamed men, one being a tall man with blonde hair and attire straight out of some fantasy movie, while the other as a very short, squat man, but incredibly muscular, and as the offers had said, took several electric dust taser shots just to paralyze him. Both had been brought into separated interrogation rooms, with the short one bound heavily due to the officers recommending it heavily. His first suspect would be the blonde one, looking at the case file of this John Doe. Hopefully, he was still awake to some degree. The somewhat aged detective looked through the one way window of the room and saw the stranger, stripped of his items, but keeping on his clothes that had been checked for concealed dangers. Matthias looked at the guard posted at the door and stepped towards her, taking another look at the suspect.  
  
"Anything new from John Doe? Heard he's been awake for about an hour."  
  
"Nothing unfortunately, sir. He's been talking a bit, but nothing he says makes sense, I can't tell if he's playing dumb or if he is actually this dumb." She said, scratching at her head whle taking a peek into the room.  
  
"Well, gives me plenty to work with then. What about the short one?"  
  
"Hell no, he's been snarling at everyone who gets close and demands his axe back, I'm not even sure if those bonds will hold him any longer."

"Oh trust me, I've seen scarier than a short man with a mohawk. Now, if you would please officer."

The guard nodded and unlocked the door, allowing Matthias in to see the strange man. Unlike his short friend, this one was calm, seemingly not resisting arrest or capture. The detective would take a seat at the other side of the table and stare at him, eyeing up his mannerisms. He looked worn, tired, the sort of man who had been out, but worn down by the years.  
  
"So....can I get a name from you first off, stranger?"

"....Felix, Felix Jaeger, but since you're here to talk, where is my companion?" He said in a rather thick accent, but Matthias couldn't pin where this accent was from. He certainly didn't recognize it from Vale, or even people he talked to from Menagerie or Atlas. He fiddled with his thumbs before opening up a case file, pulling out the pictures of the axe and sword claimed as evidence, along with a picture of Roman Torchwick.

"So Felix, since you're talking, do you know Roman Torchwick or any of his associates?"  
  
"I have seen his face, Herr uhm..."  
  
"Matthias."  
  
"Right, Herr Matthias, I do not know this man, I only glimpsed him at the scene, but you have my sword and my companion's axe. But is he..."  
  
"He's fine, don't worry about your little friend, but we need to question you. You were there at the scene of the robbery, and you clearly had killed several of his underlings in cold blood." While murder was certainly not a new concept in his job, it was how simply brutal they were that alarmed him. The morgue was still figuring out which limbs belonged to which body, and the weapons were being analyzed for evidence.

"Now simply put; are you from around here?"  
  
"No, I am from Altdorf originally, but I have traveled the world a bit. I do not believe this is my world."  
  
"Uh huh...sure, and I'm Jacques Schnee. Are you from one of the settlements out in the wild? I don't remember an "Altdorf" in this continent, Mr. Jaeger." This was getting even more odd, as now he was being fed hogwash about another world, but when he looked into Felix's eyes...he didn't see a lying man. Felix said this with conviction, which meant he was either actually from this other world, or an extremely talented liar. Matthias scratched at his chin at this puzzling man, wondering if he would have to release "Felix" and his shorter, more bloodthirsty friend. Just as he had formed another question, a knock would ring through the small interrogation room, interrupting his focus with a frustrated huff and a closing of the case file folder.   
  
"Is there a reason I'm being interrupte-"

"Apologies for the interruption Officer, I do hope I could get in a word with the man."

Matthias nearly choked as he saw the white-haired man stride in at almost uncharacteristic speed, cane tapping on the ground as he looked at him. Of all the people who would come in during an interrogation.  
  
"Professor Ozpin!? To um...what do I owe the pleasure? I'm in the middle of something, so if this talk could wait, sir."  
  
"Actually, I was wondering if I could talk to the stranger here, Officer...Matthias, is it? You're relieved here."  
  
"Under what grounds am I relieved?" Matthias said, grunting as he stared at the pale man.

"Under _Huntsman_ authority. I apologize, but your superiors already know of this if you have any questions."  
  
He couldn't believe this, a lead on the Torchwick case, and now it had slipped out of his hands. He had thought about bringing this up, but if Ozpin had said it was on Huntsman business, there wasn't much he could do. So after grabbing the file, he marched out, after all, the business of a detective was never done, more case files needed to be read and mulled over before his shift ended.

\---

Felix had no idea how long he had spent in this small, eerily silent room. There was something of a window, but as he was restrained via iron shackles to the table, he couldn't get a closer view, but it seemed to only reflect like a mirror. Despite how this seemed, there were no sadistic torturers, no threats of death, but he had been questioned about all these new people. 'Torchwick", 'Dust', all of these terms spinning around in his head. While he told them what had happened to the best of his ability, they looked at him as though he was some rambling beggar on the side of the street. This new lawman even questioned him further, before a strangely dressed man with hair more suited for an elder, came and entered his room. His heart thumped as he wondered where Gotrek was, staring at this new man cautiously, this 'Ozpin' as he was called by the detective.  
  
"Ah, Felix Yaeger, correct? I apologize for this fiasco, I was hoping that things would have been resolved without the law coming in. But I'm sure you have many questions for me."

"My friend, Gotrek Gurnisson, is he alive, Herr Ozpin?" Gods know that Gotrek would hate to die such a dishonorable death in a place like this, but the fact that he was out of his vision meant many worrying things for Felix.

"Your short friend with the axe, I assume? He's quite fine, I'd almost argue too fine for a man who was electrocuted in the face several times. He's been released into my custody, but one last thing before we bring you your clothes back and gear.

"Yes, anything!"  
  
Ozpin leaned onto his cane and grinned ever so slightly, his gaze reminding Felix of a man long lived, something he had only seen in a few people, but felt a strange chill just seeing him eye to eye.  
  
"I have a job opportunity for you and Mister Gurnisson."


	4. Of Rats and Grimm

_Unknown_

"FASTER FOOL-FOOLS!"  
  
For such a devoted servant of the Horned Rat, for all the blessed luck his patron and God rewarded him (even if it seemed at first like horrific misfortune), at least it was in the realm of the Old World, in the burrows under the various settlements the surface dwellers built. But here he was, running away from daemon-things in this bleak landscape. After the explosion of the relocation device, Thanquol had seemingly thought himself slain, but he was seemingly unharmed, though unfortunately it seemed every skaven in the burrow had survived as well, even that conniving tinker-rat, Whiskarr. But like any self-respecting skaven, Thanquol had been scurrying away from the threats behind them, riding atop the bloodied Boneripper as daemon-things rampaged through the densely packed skaven horde. Death squeaks had made up most of the volume in this desolate wasteland, with Thanquol looking behind himself to see clanrats ripped to utter pieces, or flying daemon-things plucking frightened rats off for meals, and if he had any fear musk left in his glands, the grey seer surely would have emptied it all. During the chase, he had attempted to blast some of the incoming skull-faced beasts with warp lightning, but as he pulled upon the winds of magic, Thanquol had felt something utterly terrifying; his magic had weakened, and even casting a simple cantrip had grown difficult, but his tail had been saved, due to the skaven who so generously gave their lives to distract the monsters, to protect the blessed voice of the Horned Rat.

As Thanquol moved forward with the horde in a desperate attempt to find a crevice to hide in, he had taken notice of the wasteland around them, devoid of even the barest weeds or vermin, instead replaced by towering crystals of violet, and pools of liquid darker than even the deepest burrows in Skavenblight, which moved as if _something_ was stirring within them. This gave him uncomfortable flashbacks to the green hell of Lustria, but more pressing thoughts pushed those away, namely that Whiskarr had somehow been alive! The dreaded fool had hidden himself behind a teeming shieldwall of Stormvermin, the bodyguards pushing through lesser skaven, and killing any daemons that approached with almost clockwork efficiency. Whiskarr of course, had gunned down packs of black wolf creatures, aiming his mechanical ratling gun arm in arcs of hailing green rounds, sending the beasts into pieces, or causing them to fade away to nothing. Not wanting to be shown up in power, Thanquol went for his desperate option, fumbling around in his robes as Boneripper fumbled through the terrain. From his tattered robes, Thanquol pulled out a box of warpstone powder, his snout itching in anticipation as he pulled a few pinches out, and snorted the glowing substance down, and felt his absolute power bubble up in his veins. With a few incantations, Thanquol was able to finally get a grip on some winds, his eyes beginning to glow a sickly emerald as the energy of his god crackled around him. Wickedly laughing, Thanquol pointed his hand at a group of the daemon beasts, and watched as they were instantly disintegrated by warp lightning. Yes, he was himself again, and nothing could stop him! Not Whiskarr, or these monsters! That was, until the warp dust high crashed, leaving him drooling and clinging onto his bodyguard's back ever tightly. Despite how many he had killed, more were coming, smaller than the bigger canines that hunted the back of the fleeing horde. And the worst part, was that the horde was scattering, due to the pools they avoided running into, along with deep cracks within the corrupted earth, leading to Thanquol realizing that the smaller wolves had cornered him, Boneripper, and Whiskarr along with what remained of his Stormvermin, while the rest of the horde was fending off the black-furred predators, trying not to fall into the black liquid.  
  
"Mouse-brained grey seer, you ruin-spoil escape!"  
  


"No-no, tinker-rat Whiskarr ruin escape by flaunting power! I wouldn't be here, if you hadn't made-made foolish device!"

During their bickering while Boneripper smashed hounds to flattened mounds, while Whiskarr's stormvermin skewered the daemons that came close, a sudden roar surprised them, with the two shutting up to see that many of the larger beasts had fallen, necks slit and heads separated with surgical precision. What Thanquol had mistaken for a piece of the seemingly permanent darkness of the land, or one of the beasts, he now realized was worse than anything he had seen so far. the familiar tail of a skaven slithered out, coiled expertly around a sizzling dagger, while from the cloak came two arms clutching a pair of similar daggers. The grey seer was quaking in his robes, and even Whiskarr was shaking in his mechanical armor. For a split moment, he wished he was as blissfully stupid as Boneripper, so that he wouldn't be so terrified right now.  
  
For the being that stood among the now fading daemon-thing bodies, was the feared Deathmaster Snikch. A name that would make even stormvermin empty their musk glands, the Chief Assassin of not only Clan Eshin, but Lord Sneek himself, Nightlord of the aforementioned Clan Eshin. To have him here was no good omen, as it meant that either he or the engineer were to be gutted like swamp rats. The assassin glared at the two leaders, causing Thanquol to empty musk that he didn't know he still possessed in his glands, and the scent of Whiskarr's musk told him he was feeling the same terror.  
  
"M-Most prized of the Nightlord..."  
  
"G-Gutter of All, most ultimate at st-stab-killi-"

"Silence."  
  
Just a single word shut the two up, Thanquol clawing at his tail and gnashing his teeth in a panic, while Whiskarr made sure to stand as far back behind his bodyguards as possible. Now it made sense, the Deathmaster was to kill them both, after all, the Council surely wanted him dead, and it wasn't his first clash with the clan of night runners. But as he thought more on this, he noticed Snikch point one of his daggers in a direction, pointing towards a towering castle, something that resembled civilization in this lifeless hell, even if it appeared to be of man-thing construction.  
  
"Death-kill comes for you both, but not now. Regroup at fortress, gather-rally rats."

Before either of the rats could protest, Snikch seemingly vanished into the umbra that darkened the corrupted land, somehow disappearing right in front of their eyes in a moment's notice. A shiver ran down his spine and tail, for the only thing worse than a Clan Eshin assassin, was a Clan Eshin assassin that you lost sight of. Thanquol heard Whiskarr bark orders at his stormvermin, ordering them to move closer and shield him. But did Sniktch tell the truth? The grey seer pondered this for a moment, but it made sense for Sniktch, as the chief assassin wanted them dead by his own blade, and every skaven worth his tail knew it was safe to put a pack of skaven between them and potential danger. So after clearing his throat Thanquol would bark orders to move towards the castle, all while avoiding the black pools of ooze. Because of the recent attacks, every skaven was on their toes, fear musk becoming more pungent as skavenslaves and clanrats clumped closer together, finding comfort in groups with their lesser kin. Thanquol scoffed at such a notion, he wouldn't trust most of these rats with picking fleas from his robes, every skaven individual eyed the opportunity to rise up from their spot, especially those at the bottom rungs of the Under Empire. At least Boneripper kept them all a spear's distance away, the lumbering beast following the direction of the horde, occasionally smashing the small daemonic creatures that rose from the pools, staining its claws jet black.

\--  
  
Marching towards the castle had proven more costly, as while the fortress seemed so close, many clanrats having been reduced to ribbons, or simply dragged away by packs of daemon-things, but since Thanquol wasn't in those numbers, he couldn't care less. Unfortunately, due to some unforeseen luck, Whiskarr had not perished on the march, gunning down any beasts that charged at him, while the stormvermin marched like tin rats, efficiently slicing apart threats, and suffering almost no casualties. But Thanquol was worried, as any skaven preferred being deep beneath the earth, with rock and dirt making up the sky, and while it was very dim, it did nothing to quell his worries. He had almost been tempted to take a cautious sniff from his snuff box to ease his nerves, when Whiskarr squeaked out orders, the army halting as Thanquol glared down at the tinkerer.  
  
"Blasted tinker-rat, why you stop-halt march? Is Whiskarr blind-blind to daemon-things on tail?" Yelled Thanquol, pointing his staff threateningly at Whiskarr, half-tempted to blast the half-metal rat to shrapnel for his insolence. Did he think he out ranked the most blessed of the Horned Rat?   
  
"Thanquol is the fool-fool, look towards man-thing warren." Whiskarr pointed a cybernetic paw towards the ground around the castle, and then the threat became more apparent; a horde of the creatures was gathering around it, like rats around a scrap of meat. Beasts of all varying sizes, from hounds, to towering beasts that stood over the rest of the horde. Thanquol nervously pulled at the patches of fur atop Boneripper, wondering how this could be done efficiently. Sure, there was the honorable way of any skaven leader, announcing orders from as far back from the enemy as he could be, but he also wanted to keep some meatshields alive, maybe even get Whiskarr killed. The sound of nervous chattering had risen in volume, with some skaven even starting to back away from this threat, as no skaven wanted to fight such a direct battle like this without some sort of unfair advantage. His glands clenched painfully as he eyed the surrounding area, hoping he could at least leave the pack for dead, but it seemed that every inch of this wasteland was infested, even the dark crevices in the earth weren't safe from these beings.  
  
Many of the skaven started releasing their musks of fear as a strange...creature? Object? A thing floated closer to them from the castle, with a pack of beasts seemingly following it, looking far more aggressive and deadly than the ones they had fought on the march. Thanquol couldn't quite make sense of it. It looked like a crystal orb that man-thing wizards used to see the future, but it had the twitching, coiling tendrils of some cave predator deep under the earth. Thanquol himself had clutched his snuff bag desperately, prepared for an emergency, should this being attack. Some more than eager skaven had lined up their jezzails, with Thanquol only no noticing Whiskarr yell at the sharpshooters to prepare an opening salvo. Teams consisting of skaven with rifles and those with interlocking shields lined up, each preparing their aim, and the echoes of explosive bangs rang through. In almost an instant, the large black hounds were ripped apart, heads exploding into inky mist, while some had entire limbs blown off. But when they had taken aim at the floating tentacled object, with Whiskarr even opening fire with his mechanical arm, the salvo seemingly hit right on target. But much to the horror of the jezzail teams and Whiskarr, a flickering field surrounded the orb, and more creatures had replaced those slain.  
  
"Fire faster, weaklings!" Yelled Whiskarr, bludgeoning a random clanrat with his club in frustration with the pole of his spear, his tail lashing around anxiously as the apparent threat moved closer. Thanquol gnashed his teeth nervously as he watched this, recognizing the protection of the floating orb as magic. Even if man-thing magic was inferior to the arts of the Horned Rat, every Grey Seer knew to be cautious when the enemy brought their wizards to the field, even a complete idiot like Whiskarr must know this! He attempted to conjure up some warp lightning, his staff crackling with blackish green energy, but fizzled out before he could fire off. Why did his connection to the Horned Rat feel waned? Even on a bad day, he could manage to ignite some hapless enemies with his arcane might, but here he had about as much power as some whelp initiate could conjure. Any worries about his failing magic faded away as the orb began to produce some red mist, which flowed out like some noxious fumes from the entity, flowing noxiously like the dreaded poison wind orbs. Though while poison wind orbs flowed quickly in an area, Thanquol could see that it seemed to congregate in a cluster, never seeming to dissipate, instead gathering thickly as the other skaven watched in horror. Something was in those clouds, something old and ancient, he could feel it right down to his stiff tail. Even the skaven who were less magically inclined felt that presence, their instincts raising the fur on their backs, and the smell of fear musk spread across the horde quickly. From the crimson mist, the visage of pallid, black-veined human breeder appeared forth, red eyes staring at the entire horde. Scared chittering and even a few screams echoed out, but Thanquol was stunned by terror, as those eyes weren't just addressed at the rest of the skaven, but at him specifically.   
  
"Your filthy bodies encroach upon my territory. Tell me a reason why I shouldn't leave your bodies to the Nevermores." Spoke the pale breeder, who emanated an aura of utter domination, halting her monstrous bodyguards. A myriad of plans raced across his mind, many of which involved leaving everyone here for dead, but horrifically, running wasn't an option. Neither was an all out attack, as these enemies should consider themselves blessed that he could not bring the full corruptive might of the Horned Rat. But as a skaven saying once went, 'Keep your knife out in one paw, but keep a poison wind orb hidden in the other paw'. Man-things were easily tricked, as it made them feel great when they had underlings they could seemingly boss around. So after opening up his snuff box and taking a quick huff to relax, he ordered Boneripper close, tail lashing around as his dumb companion lumbered forward, only stopping when Thanquol whacked the skull visage of Boneripper to indicate stopping. Besides releasing fear musk, the grey seer knew that the other method of survival, when pressed against a bigger and more powerful threat, was to grovel and brown snout it up.   
  
"O-Oh mightiest of man-thing breeders, I am Grey Seer Thanquol, most humble servant-seer of the Horned Rat! Thanquol and his subjects are but new-new to this world." he said, being sure to bear his neck towards her, a sure sign of submission among skaven to their superiors, though man-things were always so unpredictable with their idiotic instincts.  
  
"You are not Huntsmen clearly, yet you are also not faunus. Either way, I am Salem, lord of this realm, ratman. I sensed your presence long before you found my castle, and clearly....you seem somewhat proficient with magic, Grey Seer Thanquol, a rarity in this world." She said, her very voice causing some skaven to hide behind Boneripper's immense form, showing they would rather risk being torn to pieces than risk the breeder's wrath. Thanquol knew human breeders to be aggressive, sometimes moreso than male man-things, and he knew he would need to bargain to stay alive.  
  
"Thanquol willing to speak-squeak to Salem-breeder, yes-yes! Lackey on side is Whiskarr Zapfang, decent tinker-rat and also of arcane skill.....somewhat." Whiskarr shot him a vicious glare, half-metal tail slamming against the ground as he gnashed his teeth, and Thqnuol couldn't help but be happy. There was no way that he could let Whiskarr claim the leadership role, his idiocy and obsession with machines would be the death of the horde, but more importantly, it would mean Thanquol could risk death! Seeing as he hadn't died yet, Thanquol knew that he was playing his paws right, for this wasn't his first time greasing the disgusting palms of man-things. From his cloak, the grey seer watched her eyes seemingly look interested at the prospect of magic, eve if it was coming from someone like Whiskarr, but no doubt she would be impressed by him.  
  
"First of all, you will address me as _Lord_ Salem, if you wish to serve me and keep your limbs where they belong. If you truly wish to come into my service, I ask for your loyalty, I ask that you and your associate come in, _alone_."  
  
The two skaven looked at each other as Salem asked them to come in, but without any of their bodyguard? Whiskarr looked as though he would empty his glands at the thought of leaving his stormvermin behind, though Thanquol felt uneasy about leaving Boneripper behind. After all, Boneripper truly was the perfect guard, and was far too dumb to go without orders. He could hear Whiskarr ordering his Stormvermin to temporarily stay in charge until his return but even Stormvermin, as much as they were attested for their loyalty to their clan, could be swayed. Boneripper thankfully, had only about enough brains to determine what to crush, and not crush.   
  
"Smash-crush anyone who threatens to run, or I'll flay your mouse-brained hide!" After berating Boneripper, who was currently staring at his master, Thanquol and Whiskarr moved forward nervously, cautiously stepping over the desolate ground, and following the floating orb. As they walked forward towards the castle, the sea of daemons parted for them, standing like menacing statues as they marched upwards, the smell of fear musk faintly trailing up the path. If the Horned Rat was watching in this new realm, Thanquol prayed he was still in good graces with his lord, and that Whiskarr would die painfully.  
  
\-----  
  
Despite his initial terror, there was some comfort in the interior of this man-thing warren. It was nice and dark, albeit with some candles lighting the darkness dimply on the old stone walls. In a way, it almost reminded him of Skavenblight, or even the dingy burrows of Under-Araby. The orb had been leading them deeper into the castle, deeper enough to where if things went wrong, escape would have little chance of actually working. His paw's grip on his staff could not have been tighter, ready to bludgeon something if it stepped close, and made sure to keep his warpstone powder closer at hand. The warlock engineer also couldn't hide his anxiety, even with his mechanical joints creaking and puffing as he eyed the floating orb suspiciously. Deeper and deeper they went, until a great room had come into his field of vision, one where the dim lighting of this land's corrupted sun glowed, along with the dark violet glow of unknown glowing components. They were not alone however, as it seemed that various humans had seated themselves already, of varying size and utterly weird fur color. Although man-things looked very alike to him, a few of them barely looked older than pups, but many of them were breeders. Thanquol could see revulsion on many of their faces but he cared not, aside from shooting them a few glares of his own. But what made him snap to attention was the mysterious breeder known as Salem, who stood at the end of the large table centered in the middle of this room. It gave him an all too familiar memory of the Council of Thirteen back in Skavenblight, though without the Pillar of Commandments dominating the middle of the room.  
  
"Sa- I mean, Lord Salem, is it? Thanquol and his lackey arrive-come, this rat gives his humblest apologies for being slow-slow." To add to his brown snouting, Thanquol would give a bow, thwacking Whiskarr over the head with his staff to get him to follow his movements. And while it earned a snarl from the tinker rat, it seemed even Whiskarr understood the importance. A voice came from a part of the table, with Thanquol seeing it came from a strangely green-furred breeder, surprisingly young. He had always found it so strange how humans didn't make their breeders into broodmothers, not birthing thousands of litters to replace those slain in battle.  
  
"....Lord Salem, you know I would never question your decisions, but you're letting these _freaks_ into Evernight Castle?"   
  
"I have to say, I actually agree with Emerald on this one, I think I can smell these rats all the way from here." said an impertinent human male with silver fur, who had his legs kicked up on the table. If he was Thanquol's subject, he would have dashed his tiny brains across the floor for even beginning to question his decision! Though more voices seemed to perk up from those individuals at the table.  
  
"Oh come now Mercury, I for one welcome these new faces, life always offers little wild cards like these furry little ones eheh." This voice came from an ever grinning individual, with Thanquol's heart racing as he saw a scorpion tail slither forth from the backside of this human. Mutants were a common sight when they were exposed to warpstone or the energies of Chaos, but this questionably human being let his tail rise proudly, though he recognized the murderous intent in his eyes, unhinged. It reminded him of many manic skaven he had encountered in his life though most skaven tried to have themselves underestimated as to gain the upper hand on a superior.  
  
The other three, a large man who looked almost as muscular as Boneripper's unnatural bulk, an eerily quiet breeder with a similar stare like Salem, and another male with much fur on his lip, stared at Thanquol and Whiskarr, analyzing them, though with similar expressions of disgust. Before they could say anything, Salem spoke up, calmly staring at the Grey Seer like that of a Clan Warlord judging a slave.   
  
"Silence. Although they do disgust me on some level, they have piqued my interest. I've seen them fight, they're not unlike Grimm in pack tactics and savagery, but these two...I see useful pawns when I know them, unless any of you wish to object."  
  
Much to Thanquol's lack of surprise, the humans surrounding her failed to note their objections, many averting their eyes, or simply keeping a stern gaze. It was everything a good leader in Thanquol's eyes was; cold, calculating, and intolerant of back-talk from lower minions. With a nervous squeak, he moved forward gently, taking a seat on the table, though finding that this cursed table was built for those of human height. He had to establish himself among Salem's peers, and plan each of their demises carefully.  
  
"Many thanks, oh Mightiest of Breeders. I am Grey Seer Thanquol, a humble servant and Grey Seer of the Horned Rat, Blessed is He. Thanquol sees great might-power in Lord Salem, and could not defeat her in fight-fight, I bear my neck towards you."  
  
"I am Warlock Engineer Whiskarr, prized of Clan Skryre, and unparalleled in my tinker-creations." Whiskarr said, staring forth at them from behind his goggles, spear still gripped as Thanquol led the center, not wanting to let Whiskarr gain the upper paw.  
  
"I lead these many packs, and the thousands of these skaven are yours to command-lead in any way." Whiskarr almost raised an objection, but Thanquol raised his staff to bludgeon the impertinent engineer, before Salem scoffed, with him lowering his staff and halting.  
  
"I can see that. You seem to be proficient in the ways of the arcane, something I saw long before you approached my castle. If your tales of not being from this world are true, then that means you have much to learn before you are ready to test."  
  
"Say-squeak your desires, and Thanquol will obey-listen until my paws are bloodied."  
  
Moments passed as he watched her decide his fate. If this went wrong, he would surely die, a fate unbecoming of the most powerful of Grey Seers. Of course, she failed to realize that he was fully intending on betraying her, as this was a relationship of benefits. If he killed her, then surely he would lead her horde of daemons mixed with his skaven, to dominate this world and everything above and beneath it. But he played the part of the hapless subject for now, and would follow her orders until she stopped being useful. Before he could ponder much, she broke the silence with her decision, his tail lashing around nervously beneath his robes.   
  
"Very well, I could use more servants to fight for me, I can see from here that your forces number in the thousands, as puny as they seem. They are what you call skaven, yes?"  
  
"M-Most observant, Lord Salem! Skaven are some of the most vicious fighters from our world, and Whiskarr has tinker-made some of the mightiest weapons in skavendom. Warpfire throwers, Jezzails, ratling guns, we have much to offer....i-in return for your patronage." Humans loved weapons more than anything, and she should feel blessed to have these firearms at her disposal. After all, they did rip through many of her daemons, even she couldn't deny that.  
  
"I have seen those, and although I see you think little of money, I can offer you my own resources. Have you heard of this substance known as dust?" Seemingly from nowhere, she produced a small leather bag, and placed a small amount of red powder on the table, Thanquol and Whiskarr's eyes glittering at the destructive potential of this so-called 'dust'. Maybe this world did have many things to offer, besides the newest location of his future Under-Empire.  
  
"No, but Thanquol is very willing to learn-learn from you, Lord Salem. Please tell-speak of this 'Dust'..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading Chapter 4, and Happy New Years! I profusely apologize once again, as I was busy with a mix of finishing finals and doing nothing but playing Cyberpunk. I'm happy to see that people like my fic, and to all the people following the fic, I thank all of you! I didn't expect so many people to enjoy my little fic about Warhammer Fantasy and RWBY, so I love all of your support from the bottom of my heart. I am going to try and work faster and my harder on my fics, for all of you. Let this new year bring forth more adventures for Gotrek & Felix, and Thanquol too for the heck of it!

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies if this was a bit short! Again, first time writer and all, but I hope to get some of you interested in this, as unconventional a crossover as it is! I can't tell you a specific date when Chapter 2 will come out, but I already have some ideas bubbling in the pot.


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